


let me tell you

by luftballons99



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, Future Fic, Humor, Implied/Referenced Sexual Content, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 19:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13488012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luftballons99/pseuds/luftballons99
Summary: Tooru feels his face heat up as he lets the words sink in. He’s no stranger to compliments, but there’s no way he could ever get used to this - the easy, loving smile on Hajime’s lips when he essentially tells him,You’re you, and I think that’s incredible.





	let me tell you

**Author's Note:**

> title from "crazy for you" by hedley

As soon as Tooru opens the door to the apartment, the ghosts of spikes and jump serves still thrumming underneath the red skin of his palms, a soft wave of quiet jazz notes and the smell of something cooking wash over him. He grins as he steps past the threshold, tense muscles and joints already loosening, and drops his bag and shoes in the entryway before waltzing into the kitchen.

He can’t help but sigh fondly when he sees Hajime standing by the stove, already in his pajamas - an old Godzilla t-shirt that Tooru recognizes even from behind and soft flannel pants. He looks so cozy, lazily stirring the pot on the stove as he sways absently to the music on the radio, that Tooru instantly feels cozy, too. Sweat where? Knee pain who? Tooru’s never heard of them.

He tip-toes across the tile floor and, when he’s close enough, wraps his arms snug around Hajime’s waist. Hajime twitches and turns his head, looking up at Tooru over his shoulder in surprise.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he says, placing his free hand over both of Tooru’s where they’re joined over his abdomen. His thumb rubs gentle circles over Tooru’s knuckles. “Welcome home.”

Tooru grins. He’ll never get tired of hearing that. “Good to be back,” he breathes, head tipping down to give his boyfriend a kiss. Hajime meets him halfway, chin tilting up. Tooru sighs through the gentle sweeps of his lips against Hajime’s, one of his hands splaying out over Hajime’s abdomen and gliding up.

Tooru doesn’t realize Hajime had risen to the tips of his feet to reach him until he flops back down, bringing his lips with him and ending the kiss much too quickly, in Tooru’s opinion. He pouts when Hajime turns back to the pot on the stove, hand moving to cop a feel of his chest. Hajime isn’t having it, pinching the delicate skin on the back of Tooru’s hand until he yelps and pulls it away, trying to shake the pain out.

“I’m a little busy,” Hajime explains, but doesn’t protest when Tooru rests his chin on his shoulder with a huff.

“Too busy for me?” he tries, turning his head and pressing a kiss to the corner of Hajime’s jaw.

Hajime, the monster, doesn’t so much as blush. He’s gotten better at handling Tooru’s advances in the few months they’ve been dating. Tooru would be impressed with Hajime’s composure if it didn’t mean getting ignored.

“‘Fraid so,” Hajime affirms with a light chuckle, lifting the wooden spoon he’s been using to stir the pot to his lips and slurping its contents thoughtfully. He drops the spoon back into the pot and reaches for the salt shaker on the counter by the stove.

“What are you making?” Tooru wonders, peering over his shoulder.

Hajime shrugs, which would be slightly concerning if he wasn’t actually a pretty good cook. Tooru is more of a baker, so he defers to Hajime’s expertise for most of their meals. “I kinda just threw together some leftovers. I guess it’s stew? Something like that,” Hajime explains vaguely. “We’ve been ordering so much take out lately even though there’s still a metric shit ton of leftovers in the fridge. It’s wasteful. So I figured we should use some of ‘em up.”

Tooru nods, leaning his head against the strong curve of Hajime’s neck. “Smells good,” he hums, closing his eyes and letting his hands wander along Hajime’s sides. His knuckles brush the inside of Hajime’s upper arm. He grins, curling his hand around Hajime’s bicep and squeezing. “ _ Beef _ .”

“It’s actually - oh,” Hajime starts, but cuts himself off in realization when Tooru squeezes him again. His ears go pink. “Quit it,” he mumbles bashfully and Tooru tumbles a little further into love, if that’s even possible. At the very least he gets needier. He ignores Hajime’s request, rubbing his palm over the swell of muscle on his arm. 

“C’mon, baby, flex for me,” he says playfully, lifting his head and biting the hot shell of Hajime’s ear.

“I’m making dinner,” Hajime says feebly, and  _ there’s _ the blushy Iwa-chan Tooru knows and loves. Tooru pulls back, grinning, and Hajime tilts his head to rub his undoubtedly tingling ear on his shoulder. Maybe it’s from the long hours of volleyball practice today, but Tooru is instantly aware of the opening Hajime unknowingly left for him, the exposed plane of his neck tan and inviting. Tooru goes for it immediately, kissing and nibbling Hajime’s sensitive skin.

“Oikawa, I swear to god,” Hajime warns, but his dangerous tone is undercut by the crack of his voice. 

“I thought we agreed on first names?” Tooru says, leaving a trail of wet kisses up the side of his neck. Hajime shivers in Tooru’s arms, instinctively leaning into him.

“I never agreed to that,” Hajime replies stubbornly, breath hitching when Tooru takes a patch of his tanned skin into his mouth. “ _ Hey _ .”

Tooru gives it a harsh suck, taking advantage of Hajime’s distraction and letting his hands slip underneath his shirt. He rubs the soft muscles of his abdomen, feeling them flex unintentionally under his palms. He lets out a breathy giggle. Hajime is the perfect balance between doughy and ripped and Tooru is a weak, weak man.

“How about pet names, then?” Tooru murmurs, breath humid against Hajime’s clammy skin.

“P-Pet names?” Hajime stutters, voice branching into a quiet moan as Tooru brings one hand up to his chin and gently tips it up. Hajime lets him, willing putty in Tooru’s hands, dropping his spoon and leaning his head back against Tooru’s shoulder. Tooru litters kisses under Hajime’s jaw and all over his neck, feeling his throat bob as he swallows. He lifts his head and turns to kiss Hajime’s cheek next, but Hajime deliberately faces him at the last second so their lips meet instead.

Tooru would smile if his mouth wasn’t so busy. He licks easily into Hajime’s mouth, tastes their dinner on his tongue. Hajime kisses back hungrily, like he always does. He’s still a little rough, still not quite a pro at the fine art of tonsil hockey like Tooru is, but his heart is always in it 100 percent. His heart is always Tooru’s 100 percent.

“That’s right, baby,” Tooru whispers against his mouth when they part, eyes hooded and voice sweet. He smiles down at Hajime’s blushing face and stern eyes. Contradictions like that are partially why Tooru loves him so much. Tooru kisses him again.

“Mm,” Hajime hums, twisting in Tooru’s arms so their chests press flush together. Tooru can feel his heartbeat like this, hard and fast, and can’t help but grin into the kiss. Hajime’s thick arms wind around Tooru’s neck, their bodies flush. Hajime has to stretch to reach him, which can’t be comfortable, but he does it anyway, surging up to kiss Tooru with everything he has. They only stop to breathe, and when they do, they stay close, foreheads touching.

“Does Shittykawa count?” Hajime wonders teasingly, smirking even as he blushes.

“It does  _ not _ ,” Tooru replies, horrified. “Geez, Hajime, you don’t have a romantic bone in your body, do you?”

“I do too,” Hajime shoots back, standing up on his tip-toes once again to peck Tooru’s lips before crouching, wrapping his arms under Tooru’s thighs, and lifting him up with a quiet grunt. Tooru squeals, delightedly kicking his legs and laughing when Hajime staggers over to the counter and deposits Tooru on its surface. “See?” he teases, but in that special Hajime way where he does it with a straight face, “How’s that for romantic?”

“I take it all back,” Tooru hums, running his hands over Hajime’s upper arms and biting his bottom lip. “You lifted me up so  _ easily _ .God, these things are a miracle.”

“My arms?” Hajime asks, incredulous and amused and, Tooru is sure, just a little bit cocky.

Tooru nods eagerly, cupping both of his hands around one of Hajime’s biceps and lifting it up to his face in reverence. He nuzzles it appreciatively, cheek pressing against the squishy flesh. “Hajime,” he says, on the verge of grateful tears, “it’s like the size of my head.”

“It’s really not.”

“It’s so  _ big _ ,” Tooru goes on, slightly muffled from smothering himself with Hajime’s arm. “Delicious.” He punctuates his claim with a long smooch to Hajime’s bicep. “Forget leftovers, I’m having you for dinner. My itty-bitty beefy boyfriend.”

“You are so fucking weird,” Hajime chuckles, face a blotchy, dark red. Tooru grins down at him, cheek still squashed against Hajime’s arm.

“Am not,” he insists, tone affronted but expression cheerful. He will gladly worship these arms until the day he dies. “C’mon, Iwa-chan, what’s something about me that you like?”

Hajime laughs quietly, thinking. He runs his hand down Tooru’s side to his hip and squeezes before continuing to his inner thigh. 

“Probably your legs,” he says finally, looking down at them. His arm slips out of Tooru’s loving embrace so both of his hands are on Tooru’s thighs. Gently, he pushes them apart and fills the gap with his hips as he kisses Tooru’s cheek. “But when it comes to you, Oikawa,” he trails off softly, gripping Tooru’s thighs a little tighter. He has one of those rare smiles that usually only come a good ten minutes after he does and the two of them are tangled in their sweaty sheets, loopy and boneless and absolutely smitten with each other. It steals Tooru’s breath every time, his heart fluttering behind his ribs. 

“What’s not to like?” Hajime finishes finally, gaze warm.

Tooru feels his face heat up as he lets the words sink in. He’s no stranger to compliments, but there’s no way he could ever get used to  _ this _ \- the easy, loving smile on Hajime’s lips when he essentially tells him,  _ You’re you, and I think that’s incredible. _

Tooru cups his burning cheeks, touched. “Really?”

Hajime keeps smiling up at him crookedly. “Mhm,” he confirms.

He stretches up and kisses Tooru’s nose, so gently that Tooru could cry. After pulling back, he smiles wider. “Now your face is all red,” he observes fondly. “I guess you can dish it, but you can’t take it.”

For a moment, Tooru’s lips quiver and his blush deepens, but he’s determined not to break. His competitive streak doesn’t end with volleyball.

“I can take,” he begins after a breath, hooking his ankles behind the small of Hajime’s back and pulling him close, “all  _ kinds  _ of things.”

Hajime blinks, then snickers, eyes and cheeks warm as he shuffles closer and squeezes Tooru’s hips. “Oh yeah?” he challenges, leaning in.

“Oh yeah,” Tooru affirms proudly before their lips meet.

Their smoke alarm goes off before he gets the chance to prove it.

**Author's Note:**

> holy shit, i wrote something under 10k for once. zoo wee mama
> 
> anyway, follow me on social media! (and leave kudos and comments to feed my life force)
> 
>  [main blog](http://eijier.tumblr.com//)  
> [art blog](http://luftballons99.tumblr.com/)  
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